


Deep Cover

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Series: The Fantasy of Every Red-Blooded American Male [8]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Incest, M/M, comment porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-23
Updated: 2009-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian goes in a deep cover mission and when he returns he remembers nothing of his life with Charlie and Don.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Late at night the office got quiet, and Don took the opportunity to sift through some of the paperwork that had piled up alarmingly on his desk. He sorted everything into piles, one for forms, one for memos, and one for the random detritus. He started with the memos, reading carefully for anything that might have escaped his notice.  
  
He was about to take a sip of coffee when he saw it. He read it over. And then he read it again, already reaching for the phone before he could read it a third time.   
  
"Charlie... have you heard from Ian?" Don asked anxiously.  
  
"No... he's still working as far as I know. Why? Don, what's wrong?"  
  
Don swallowed. "I got copied on a memo. Ian made his kill _four days ago_."  
  
"What?" Ian always called after a job was complete. _Always_. He fought down his panic and tried to think. "Is there any chance he's still debriefing? Or that he was sent somewhere else?" But Ian had been gone for almost three months and whenever he was on a lengthy assignment they tried to give him a break before sending him out again. "Who should we be calling?"  
  
"Even if he was still debriefing, he still would have called one of us. He wouldn't forget." Don rubbed his lips. "I'm going to wake some people up here, try and figure out what's going on. Can you... do you still have any contacts outside of the FBI?"  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, I do. I'll start making calls. I still have some favors I can call in. I'll text you when I find something, you do the same."  
  
"I will. And Charlie...?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"We'll figure this out, okay? He's going to be fine."  
  
Charlie forced a smile even though Don couldn't see him. "I know." He rubbed a finger along the desktop, wishing Don were here with him now. "I'll talk to you soon."  
  
"Talk to you soon," Don said. He hung up the phone, his head spinning. He read the memo one final time before picking up the phone.  
  
It took time, and he ended up speaking with a lot of cranky, sleepy people on the other end of the phone. But after a few hours he had a pretty good picture of what was going on. Ian's assignment had to do with a small, insular community of back-woods survivalists. A case of cutting the head off the snake. It wasn't as simple as just tracking the target down and killing him this time. It was a lot of evading and hiding along with the tracking.   
  
The problem was, the head was killed and the survivalists were scattered, so where the hell was Ian?  
  
The first thing Charlie did was try Ian's phone. It went straight to voice mail. "Ian? What's going on? Don says you finished 4 days ago. Call me when you get this, okay? We're worried about you." After that he sent Ian a text that included their emergency code. He waited for a few minutes, hoping he might get a response. When nothing happened, he started making calls to other people.  
  
He got sketchy details of the mission, but that was all. Some of the people he talked to assumed that Ian was fine, just taking some needed personal time. But he thought he convinced at least one of them that there might be a real problem. Maybe one of those survivalists had found Ian and taken revenge. Ian was good, but he was human, he made mistakes and sometimes people just got lucky.  
  
Don texted Charlie what he knew and asked him to come to the office. His calls coupled with Charlie reaching out to his contacts seemed to have been enough to get someone's attention. The possibility that the Bureau's fourth best sniper was captured, injured, killed, or most horrifying, converted was enough to get Don a personal sit down with the AD who'd given Ian the assignment. And he needed Charlie with him.  
  
Charlie relaxed just a fraction when he saw his brother. "Don," he said softly. When Don got up from his desk, Charlie pulled him into a fierce hug. Let everyone think Don was comforting him, rather than both comforting each other. He didn't care. He needed to hold Don and be held by him. Still, he was careful not to make the hug last too long, as much as he wanted it to.  
  
Don squeezed Charlie tightly, the tips of his fingers just barely stroking the bottom of his curls. "It's okay, I'm here," he whispered in Charlie's ear.  
  
He pulled back and looked Charlie in the eye. "Come on, the AD is waiting for us."  
  
"Okay." He squared his shoulders and resisted the urge to hold Don's hand.  
  
The AD paced as he talked to Don and Charlie, a lot of the typical Bureau CYA bullshit coming out of his mouth.   
  
"Sir?" Don interrupted smoothly. "Is there any plan to go out there and try to find him? Or are we just going to write him off as a loss?" Charlie tensed next to him.  
  
"Mind your tone, Agent Eppes." The AD glared at him. "That is, in fact, why you and your brother are here. We're hoping that you, with your team and Doctor Eppes's help, will be able to find him and extract him."  
  
"I'll do whatever I can," Charlie said immediately. "Just tell me what needs to be done."  
  
"Finding him is the major problem right now. We all know how good Agent Edgerton is, and when he wants to disappear, we have to believe he can. You'll have all the information on the survivalists and the area they were staying on your desk when you get back. We need a search area. After that, we'll talk about extraction."  
  
Don stood. "Whatever extraction plan is in place, Charlie comes with us. He knows Ian best, knows how he thinks. We can't do it without him."  
  
"Done. Bring him back, Agent."  
  
"Count on it."  
  
They spent the next several hours pouring over all the available data. Charlie took cat naps when he was too exhausted to think clearly and spent the rest of the time conferring with Don's team and Larry. He kept an ear out for his phone, hoping Ian would respond. He couldn't let himself think about why Ian wasn't calling him back or he wouldn't be able to focus.   
  
Finally, nearly 24 hours later, he thought he had the area narrowed down. It was still several square miles, but there wasn't anything that could be done about it. The mountains made it impossible to get things any more localized than that.  
  
Don took a deep breath and turned to his team. "Okay, so extraction. Ian is one of our best trackers. It's going to take all of us to find him ultimately. We'll break the area down into a grid. David and Colby will be one team. Liz and Nikki will be another. Charlie and I will round it out."  
  
If they couldn't find him, they'd have to start using dogs. Not trackers, if Ian wanted to defeat those he could. Cadaver dogs. Charlie tried not to think about that.   
  
....  
  
Don checked Charlie's vest one more time. He told Charlie it was just in case there were still survivalists running around, which was true. But he was also worried that Ian might not recognize either of them. Hence the helmets they were both wearing. The vests wouldn't stop a headshot.  
  
Charlie looked out at the mass of trees and mountains ahead of them and tried not to feel despair. "Don... how do we even start to look for him?"  
  
Don squeezed the back of his neck, checking to make sure the rest of the team had headed off to start searching their own grids. "One step at a time, buddy. He's out there somewhere. And I think we have the best shot of finding him."  
  
"Me, too," Charlie said softly. "Do you think he'll recognize us with the helmets?"  
  
Don didn't want to say what he was thinking, which was that if Ian had truly suffered some kind of break and had stopped recognizing friend from foe that the helmets were going to be the least of their problems. Instead, he gave his brother another comforting squeeze and indicated a direction. "Your map said that due west there's a dense part of forest the survivalists tended to avoid. I say we start there. And remember to look up into the trees, too. Ian could have found a perch."  
  
"Should we call for him? We can't sneak up on him anyway, and maybe hearing our voices will help. But I don't want to alert anyone else." If they found Ian he'd take off his helmet if he had to. Ian wouldn't hurt him or Don. He had to believe that.  
  
"Honestly, buddy, I'm hoping Ian finds us first. But if we see signs of him, yeah, we'll call out to him. I don't think he'd hurt us."  
  
As they walked along, Don was secretly glad for Charlie's skill as a hiker. The terrain was rough but passable, and Charlie navigated it well. If it weren't for the fact that their lover was missing and possibly injured, they could have been on a pleasant journey through the forest.  
  
Charlie looked carefully at his surroundings, down, straight, up, again and again. He saw a few animals, even a deer, which he pointed out to Don, but there was no sign of Ian.  
  
They searched as long as they could, only breaking off when the daylight started to fail them. Rendezvousing back at base-camp with the rest of the team, Don listened closely to the reports, hoping for any sign, even a small one, of Ian. So far, everyone had come up dry.   
  
As they settled down for the night, Don wrapped his arms around Charlie. "How are you holding up, buddy?"  
  
"Tired. Worried. We have to find him, Don. He has to be okay." He paused. "What about you, how are you holding up?"  
  
It was maybe a blessing and a curse that people kept asking him how he was doing. They knew he and Ian were together and they wanted to offer support and while it was appreciated, if one more person told him that Ian was the most qualified person to survive on his own, injured or not, he thought he might scream. But it had to be even worse for Don, who couldn't show anyone just how badly he was hurting or how scared he was.  
  
"I don't know," Don said quietly. "I know I need him to be okay. I want to find him and have him recognize us and have everything be alright. But... I just want to find him soon."  
  
"Me too," Charlie said softly. He was quiet for a moment, then reached over and took Don's hand. He waited to speak until Don looked at him. "Ian's fine. He can't communicate for some reason, but he's fine. But if something does happen in the future, I want you to know that I'm still going to love you, need you and want you. Okay?"  
  
Don took a deep breath and nodded, leaning forward to capture Charlie's lips in a soft, brief kiss. "We should try and get some sleep."  
  
Nodding, Charlie shifted closer to Don in his sleeping bag, privately glad for the small tent accommodations. No one would think it strange if they saw him and Don sleeping close together to share body heat in the rapidly cooling night.  
  
....  
  
The sun broke over the ridge early the next morning, waking Don from his restless sleep. He was only mildly surprised to find Charlie already sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.  
  
"Did you sleep at all?"  
  
"A little. You?"  
  
"Some," Don said. "Let's get some coffee and conference, then get moving."  
  
Thankfully, David and Colby had already gotten the coffee going and it was ready by the time Don and Charlie were crawling out of their tent. They talked as they ate quickly, discussing coverage areas and Don reminding them to look for any sign, no matter how small.   
  
They set off in their separate directions, and Don mentally crossed his fingers for better luck today than they'd had yesterday.  
  
Once again Charlie looked as long as he could before his eyes got tired and he asked to stop for a moment.  
  
"Sure thing, buddy," Don said. He kept an eye on their surroundings as Charlie sat to rest on a fallen tree. Their luck had not so far improved and it was creeping on mid-day. Pulling out his canteen, he had it halfway to his lips when he heard the tell-tale snick of an automatic weapon an instant before the warm metal barrel of a gun was placed at the back of his neck.  
  
"Identify yourself right now or I'll shoot you where you stand," a familiar voice growled, low and dangerous.  
  
"Don. Don Eppes," he said, standing perfectly still. He didn't identify himself as FBI, if Ian had gone native, or discovered something else and was doing some sort of undercover thing, it wouldn't help.  
  
Charlie was looking at them both, wide-eyed, but thank God, not moving. "Ian, it's me, it's Charlie. And that's Don. You know us. You love us. And we love you. We've been worried about you. We've been out here looking--Ian please, that's Don, it's just Don."  
  
"Turn around," Ian ordered Don. "And both of you, take off your helmets."  
  
Don did as he was told, slowly and with his hands clearly visible, tossing his helmet aside. Charlie followed suit, standing uneasily next to Don. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Charlie shaking slightly.  
  
"Ian, it's us," Don said quietly. "You've known us for years. You and Charlie have been a couple for almost two years and the three of us have been in a relationship nearly a year now."  
  
Ian looked between them, his face betraying nothing. But he slowly lowered his weapon so it only pointed at their feet instead of their heads.  
  
He didn't remember. He couldn't, and react to them this way. Something must have happened. Charlie couldn't see any visible damage, but that didn't mean anything.   
  
Don knew he had to be very, very careful. It probably wouldn't take much for Ian's slight show of trust to turn into suspicion. He couldn't help wishing Charlie wasn't here for this, that he was somewhere safe. "Do you know who you are?" Don asked quietly.  
  
"Edgerton. Ian Edgerton. I'm with the FBI." He squinted at them closely. "But I don't know you. I met an Eppes. Once. He... I think he was an agent."  
  
Don breathed a soft sigh. He wasn't completely gone yet, then. But Ian's weapon still hovered at an uncomfortable angle. "That's me, Agent Edgerton. I'm Agent Don Eppes. I'm going to reach for my ID, okay?"  
  
"Slowly," Ian said, pointing his gun at him again.  
  
Charlie tried not to hold his breath, tried to breathe normally. But he ached from not moving, and from watching one man he loved threaten the other. The Ian he knew and loved still had to be in there. Somewhere.  
  
Don carefully reached for his ID and slowly drew it out, opening it at eye-level so Ian could see it.  
  
Ian studied it closely and then finally -- _finally_ \-- lowered his weapon and put it away. "Agent."  
  
"Do you remember why you're out here?" Don asked, relaxing half-way. He still didn't know how bad it was.  
  
"These backwoods survivalists have been creating some problems for the Bureau. My objective was the leader. I got him a few days ago, but the rest of the group was looking for who took the shot. There was some in-fighting and I lost communication. There's no cell reception out here to speak of and they cut me off from my truck so I couldn't radio in." Ian looked around. "So, you're my extraction team?"  
  
"Part of it, yes. The rest of the team is out searching for you."  
  
Ian turned to Charlie, giving him a ghost of his familiar smile. "And you? You're with the FBI, too?"  
  
Charlie's heart ached. "Sort of. I'm a professor of applied mathematics. I help out sometimes."  
  
"With math?" Ian asked dubiously. He glanced at Don.  
  
"You call it math voodoo," Charlie said softly. "I don't think you believed the first time we worked together, but that's okay, I didn't really appreciate your skills either. Not until you saved my life. By the second case you started to get it and by the third..." he shrugged.   
  
"It's true," Don confirmed.   
  
"So how did a math professor end up working for the FBI?"  
  
Charlie looked at Don helplessly. The Ian they knew would never betray their secret. But this wasn't the Ian they knew. He already knew they were lovers, and it would be all too easy for someone else to mention they were brothers. "My brother works for the FBI."  
  
"Brothers. You two..." Ian looked between them again, a smirk playing across his features. Charlie's heart clenched. It was so achingly familiar and all he wanted to do was run into Ian's arms and hold him and never let go.  
  
"Yes," Don said, taking a step closer to Charlie.  
  
"And the three of us are... lovers." Ian took a step closer to both of them, his eyes sweeping down both of their bodies. Don could almost feel their touch. "Well, lucky me."  
  
Don let out a sigh, half of relief, half of wishing they weren't in this damn situation to begin with. "You understand... no one knows about the three of us. As far as everyone else is concerned, you and Charlie are seeing each other. That's all."  
  
Ian quirked his eyebrow, giving Don a look that clearly said, 'I'm not an idiot.'  
  
"Right. So, Agent Edgerton. What do you say we get the hell out of here?"  
  
Ian nodded, starting off with Don and Charlie on the way back to their base camp. Don radioed the rest of the team, informing them they'd found Ian and that they should all converge back on camp. As they walked, Don naturally took the lead, Ian a step behind and Charlie taking up the rear, but after a few minutes, Ian dropped back to walk with Charlie.   
  
"So... I saved your life?"  
  
"Yes. There was a sniper terrorizing LA, and I... stupidly walked into a scene. He took a shot at me. Took out a window behind me. He would have killed me if you hadn't taken him out first." Charlie shrugged.   
  
"How long after that did we... you know?"  
  
"It took some time. And it happened slowly. But you started coming back to LA more and more, seeing me... you cooked for me on our first date."  
  
Ian focused on the forest ahead of him for a moment, watching Don's back. "How come I don't remember any of it?"  
  
Charlie swallowed hard, promising himself that his voice would be normal when he spoke again. "I don't know, Ian. But I promise you we're going to figure it out."  
  
Charlie tried to watch Ian, Don, and the forest all at once. All they needed now was for some survivalist to start taking shots at them.   
  
"What about Ian's truck?" Charlie asked.  
  
"Is it secure?" Don asked Ian. "If the survivalists find it, will they get access to your weapons, supplies?"  
  
"It's secure, Eppes. Don't worry," Ian replied.  
  
Don turned to Charlie. "We'll send a larger team back to retrieve it. Right now, I just want to get Ian home and checked out."  
  
Charlie nodded. He almost hoped there was some medical reason, something that could be easily fixed. It didn't occur to him until they were nearing the rendezvous point that Ian probably wouldn't remember the rest of Don's team.  
  
Ian tensed as he spotted the other people in the clearing, instinctively reaching for his weapon.   
  
"Whoa, it's okay. They're my team," Don explained, putting his hand on Ian's shoulder.   
  
"I want to see their identifications," Ian said. "All of them. Right now."  
  
There was a general look of confusion, but everyone pulled out their badges and held them up for Ian's inspection. Don didn't breathe until Ian relaxed completely and nodded his greeting to the team.  
  
"Good to see you, Ian," Colby said, clapping him on the shoulder.  
  
Ian blinked. "I'm sorry. Do we know each other?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. I'm Colby Granger."  
  
"He doesn't remember us," Don said, so Charlie wouldn't have to say it. "Any of us. So let's get him home and get him checked out."  
  
Colby looked from Ian to Charlie, nodding at him in sympathy. "Of course. We're almost done breaking camp down. If you want to head out, we can take care of it."  
  
"Thanks, Colby," Don said. He pointed Ian toward his SUV and headed out as soon as he and Charlie were settled.   
  
They'd been on their way back to the city for a good 20 minutes before Ian spoke again. "So, I don't suppose getting checked out would include the two of you getting me naked?"  
  
Don could almost feel Charlie's eyes go wide behind him.   
  
"What?" Charlie asked, so caught off-guard by the question he didn't know what else to say.  
  
Ian twisted around in his seat. "Just because I don't remember you doesn't mean I don't know that you are both very attractive men."  
  
"Let's just see what the doctor says first," Don said. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Ian's suggestion, but he knew Charlie wouldn't like it. Charlie had never been one for an anonymous fuck, and right now, Ian wasn't much different from a stranger.  
  
"Yeah," Charlie said, shifting uncomfortably. He'd never seen Ian as a predator really until now. "We'll see what the doctor says."  
  
Ian's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry. I guess our relationship isn't like that, huh?"  
  
Don glanced at him. "Like what?"  
  
"Well, you said we were lovers. All my lovers in the past, it's been about the sex, the physical release. But that's _all_ it's been about. You two must be something special."  
  
"We're in love," Charlie said softly. "First you and me, then me and Don, then the two of you. It was never just sex."  
  
"In love," Ian repeated, looking closely at Charlie. "You love me?"  
  
Charlie nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.  
  
"And... you know everything about me? You know what I do on missions? The things I have to do?"  
  
"You try to keep me out of your work to protect me as much as possible, but yeah. Yeah, I do."  
  
Ian tentatively put his hand out and just touched Charlie's knee. "And you love me anyway?"  
  
Charlie nodded again. "Very very much."  
  
"I really am lucky," Ian said, trying to offer Charlie a smile. "I'm sorry. I wish I remembered. It sounds like I have a great life."  
  
"You do," Charlie said hoarsely. He covered Ian's hand with his own. "And you'll get it back."  
  
"Even if we have to start from scratch," Don said firmly.  
  
Ian nodded and sat back in his seat, watching as the forest turned to highway and highway turned into the city. He ran over the last few months in his head, trying to figure out what happened to him, trying to slot Charlie and Don in to his life. He remembered getting the call and he did what he always did: load up the car and head out. But if he was with Charlie and Don the way they said, he must have said goodbye to them, maybe even done something special for them knowing he'd be gone for a long time. Except it was blank.  
  
The mission had gone about as well as could be expected, despite the fact that it had taken him three months to locate and execute his target. He didn't remember any injuries. He certainly hadn't been captured or tortured. There was nothing to explain why he couldn't seem to remember these men who were apparently the most important people in his life.  
  
He didn't think they were lying. He could tell a real FBI badge from a fake one, and Don's and the rest of his team had been the genuine article. The gear was right, the vehicle was right, and Agent Granger's glance at Charlie at the mention of memory loss supported the story that people knew he and Charlie were lovers. This didn't feel like a trap, and Charlie's distress was obvious. Don's less so, but Ian suspected there was a lot he wasn't seeing, signs he should have been able to read in a man he was in love with.  
  
"Assuming they release Ian from the hospital, will the FBI debrief him right away or do you think we can go home for a while?"  
  
"They'll want to debrief as soon as possible, but with the apparent memory loss, they might let him at least go home first. If there's no physical cause, they'll probably want him to talk to Bradford," Don replied.  
  
"Home? Do we all live together, too?" Ian asked.  
  
Don shook his head. "We each have our own places. You keep an apartment here so you're with us between jobs, and when you're here, we spend as much time there with you as we can."  
  
"Don has his own apartment, and I live at the house where we grew up with our dad. He likes you and you like him."  
  
"You're still living at home?"  
  
"Yes. I own now."  
  
"With your salary as a math professor?"  
  
"And consulting and prizes and math is really a much more lucrative field than you'd think. Which reminds me, I should call Dad, he's probably worried."  
  
"And who's Bradford?"  
  
"One of the FBI's therapists," Don said. "My therapist."  
  
"Your therapist?" Ian asked.  
  
"It's a long story. Involving you, actually. In a way. I'll tell you about it, but I'm hoping you'll remember before I have to," Don said.   
  
"It was bad."  
  
Don looked at him. "It wasn't good, no."  
  
Thankfully, he was saved from having to elaborate any further by their arrival at the hospital.  
  
Since Ian didn't have any visible trauma, they were sent to the end of a lengthy line. They settled in uncomfortable chairs to wait. "What's the last thing you remember before this job?" Don asked.  
  
"Just the job before it. It was a fugitive hunt in Nebraska that took about three weeks," Ian said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I got the call for this job and I went for it."  
  
"Where were you when you got the call?" Don asked, though he already knew the answer to the question. They had all been at Ian's apartment together when the phone rang. They'd spent the night together and Ian left the next morning.  
  
Ian's brow furrowed. "I don't remember," he said finally. "My car, maybe?"  
  
Charlie looked pained at the answer. It was becoming clear that whatever had happened, it had taken everything about him and Don and their life together. He remembered when Ian had been sent out on the Nebraska job. He remembered even more the sex they'd had when he returned. There had been almost a month between the two jobs where Ian mostly stayed around LA, spent time with them, and rested. But to listen to Ian, there might as well have been hours between the two jobs.  
  
"I said the wrong thing again, didn't I?" Ian asked, looking at Charlie's face.  
  
Charlie forced a smile. "It's not your fault. But no, that's not how we remember it. The Nebraska job was recent. Or at least, there was recently a job in Nebraska."  
  
"So, the memory loss is selective, then. I'm not sure if I should be encouraged by that or not," Ian said. He crossed his arms and scowled at his feet. It was just so frustrating. The image of the life that Don and Charlie painted was a good one, a far better one than he'd ever expected to have. That much he knew. He _wanted_ to remember it, but hard as he tried, nothing came.  
  
At long last Ian's name was called. Charlie automatically stood, but then hesitated. "Do you want us to come with you?"  
  
"Yes, please," Ian said, putting a gentle hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Right now, you two know me better than I know myself. You'll be able to tell if something is wrong."  
  
Don nodded, and they went back into the emergency department with Ian. The doctors did a full exam, checking for any neurological dysfunction. They asked him a series of questions about current events, the date, who was President, and about his life, address, phone number, friends, family... Except for the address and the friends he'd made on Don's team, Ian remembered everything perfectly.  
  
"Have you been under a prolonged period of stress?" the doctor asked. "Sometimes that can affect memory."  
  
"But why this time? It was a stressful assignment but I've had other stressful assignments and never had a problem."  
  
"There must have been something different about this case, about the pressures you were under," the doctor said. "Something related to the people in your life maybe?"  
  
Ian thought it over. "There was... the survivalists. The reason they called me in. They were threatening the lives of the families of FBI agents who had tried to bring them in."  
  
"So maybe it was a protective mechanism?" Don suggested. "If there was credible intelligence they'd make good on their threats and you were worried about getting caught..."  
  
"Maybe. But... now how do I fix it? I want very much to remember _all_ the parts of my life," Ian said.  
  
"That's beyond my expertise," the doctor said. "For now, I don't see any reason to keep you here. I'm going to release you. Maybe if you go home, things will start to come back to you."  
  
"That's a good idea," Don said. "And maybe we can set up an appointment with Bradford. He might be able to help, or at least, point us in the right direction."  
  
Don excused himself to call into the office while the doctor finished up the discharge paperwork, leaving Charlie alone with Ian.  
  
Ian sat on the edge of the gurney and put his head in his hands, exhaustion and frustration finally starting to catch up with him.  
  
"Do--do you want to lean on me?" Charlie asked tentatively.  
  
Lifting his head, Ian gave him half a smile. "I'd like to, but I'm not sure you really want to. I'm not the same man you know."  
  
Charlie pushed Ian's hair off his forehead, cupping his jaw tenderly. "You are. He's in there somewhere. Come here," he said, tugging until Ian's head was resting on his shoulder.  
  
When Don returned, he found Charlie gently stroking Ian's shoulder, Ian resting comfortably against him. It was almost normal, and for just a second he could pretend that it was. "The Bureau wants to debrief you, but they're willing to wait until tomorrow morning. How about we take you home?"  
  
"Home sounds good," Ian said. He wondered if he'd recognize anything in it. He usually traveled light and even "home" was just a stop between jobs. So this life he'd built...had he changed before or after getting involved with Charlie and Don?  
  
It had felt good lying against Charlie's shoulder. Not familiar, but...nice.  
  
Charlie squeezed Ian's shoulder and slid off the gurney, offering his hand to him.  
  
Ian took it and squeezed and then reached out to squeeze Don's hand. "Didn't want you to feel left out," he said when Don looked surprised.  
  
"You never do," Don said softly. He cleared his throat. "Right, home."  
  
They piled back into the SUV and soon they were arriving at Ian's apartment. Don opened the door with his key and turned on the lights, standing aside to let Ian walk in.  
  
It wasn't quite as spartan as he expected. The couch had a couple of throws on it. There were papers scattered on the table, they were filled with numbers, so they must have been Charlie's.   
  
"I work here sometimes when you're gone," Charlie said, following his gaze. "Don and I both come here."  
  
Ian looked around, noticing some pictures of Charlie and Don together and even one of the three of them. He went into the kitchen, opening the fridge. At least that was how he expected it to be: nearly empty. He shut the door again.  
  
"It makes us feel a better when you're gone for so long," Don said. "Closer to you."  
  
He nodded, still taking everything in. Parts of it seemed vaguely familiar, but nothing was really standing out as "his" yet. "The bedroom is through there?"  
  
"Yeah," Don said, following him through.   
  
Ian turned on the light in the bedroom, looking around. He took in the well-made bed and plush pillows, but his eyes went almost automatically to the hook embedded in the ceiling. "Is that for what I think it's for?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," Charlie said, refusing to blush.  
  
Don put an arm around him and Charlie leaned in, grateful for the contact.  
  
"We've all used it," Don said.  
  
"All of us?" Ian repeated.  
  
"Yeah. At one time or another, as the mood strikes."  
  
Ian nodded and reached out to touch the sheets. "Nicer than I thought I'd have."  
  
"Blame Charlie. He's the hedonist."  
  
"Hey, I don't hear you complaining," Charlie said.  
  
"The towels are really soft and fluffy, too," Don said. "Also Charlie's fault."  
  
"You like them! You specifically asked for me to buy something nice!"  
  
Ian stalled them by sitting on the mattress and laughing, a deep, genuine laugh. "Have you two always bickered like a married couple?"  
  
It was startling to hear Ian laugh but good, so very good. "Pretty much," Don said. "You two can be worse though."  
  
"Oh please," Charlie said, rolling his eyes.   
  
"When you're not being saccharine."   
  
"I'm _saccharine_?" Ian asked incredulously.   
  
"Big bad predator brought down by a math professor," Charlie said, grinning.  
  
"Charlie's sweetness is a little infectious," Don admitted.   
  
Ian shook his head and smiled at the two of them. They seemed like they would be an unlikely trio, but it wasn't hard to imagine what they were all like together. He scrubbed a face over his hand. "Look, I've been out in the woods for three months, so I'd like a long, hot shower and to sleep. Will you two stay with me? I--just forget about my question earlier. It'd just be... nice if you stayed."  
  
"I'd like that," Don said quietly.  
  
"Me too," Charlie said, reaching out to grip Ian's shoulder. "Go take a shower. Don or I can take the next one. We haven't been out in the woods as long as you have, but we've been out for a few days." He hesitated for just a second then leaned in and kissed Ian's cheek. "We'll be here when you get out, promise. And don't worry about hot water. You've got a big heater."  
  
"Thanks," Ian said softly, oddly touched that they wanted to stay to comfort him. As foreign as they seemed to him, he must seem at least as foreign to them. He squeezed Charlie's hand, caressing the back with his thumb before standing and heading to the bathroom.  
  
As soon as the door was shut, Don rushed over and gathered Charlie in his arms. "God, this is so hard."  
  
"I'm so glad you're here," Charlie said, holding Don tightly.  
  
"I'm glad you're here, too," Don said, tipping Charlie's head back and kissing him softly. "I had prepared myself to find Ian hurt or needing medical attention, but this. God, this is torture."  
  
Charlie squeezed Don tightly, stroking his back. "I know. But our Ian _is_ in there somewhere. At least he believes we are who we say we are; at least he trusts us. I don't know if I could stand it otherwise."  
  
"I know." He kissed Charlie's forehead. "Listen, I think I should sleep between you two tonight."  
  
"Don--"  
  
"Charlie if he wakes up disoriented or if there's some kind of PTSD thing going on--it might not be safe. Please, do this for me."  
  
Reluctantly, Charlie nodded. He knew Don was right, but he didn't like to think about maybe having to sit by and watch while Ian hurt Don. And what would he do then? "Just, you be careful, too, okay? I can't have something happen to you."  
  
"I will, buddy. I promise." Don kissed Charlie more deeply this time. They were still kissing when the door to the bathroom opened.  
  
Ian watched for a moment, arousal stirring in his gut. His body apparently remembered them just fine. He cleared his throat. "Sorry. The bathroom's free."  
  
"I'll go," Charlie said. He squeezed Don's hand and brushed past Ian, patting his shoulder as he went.  
  
Ian leaned into the brief contact, and then went over to Don. He tentatively reached out to caress his cheek, his thumb ghosting over his lips. "You two are good together," he commented.  
  
"Yes, we are. But we never would have seen it if it wasn't for you. It was your idea." He reached up and rubbed a thumb over Ian's wrist. "You're the glue that keeps us together. Sometimes we fight like an old married couple, but sometimes we fight like siblings and--there's a lot of baggage there. In fact, not so long ago you were gone for a while and things were -- difficult for Charlie and I. But when you came back you persuaded us that we could still be out in public together, and be ourselves, even if we had to act like brothers instead of lovers."  
  
"I...," Ian's brow furrowed, "I really wish I remembered that." He dropped his hand and took a few steps away. "Listen, tomorrow morning might be--bad. After tough jobs, I can kind of end up in my head for a bit. I feel like you can probably handle it, but Charlie..."  
  
Don stopped him. "I'll take care of it, don't worry. Used to happen to me, too, before I had you. I won't let you hurt either of us."  
  
"Good. That's good," Ian said, his shoulders sagging.   
  
Don tugged him over to the bed and got him settled in his normal spot. He stroked his still-damp hair. "It's okay. I know you must be frustrated and confused, but I promise you're safe with us. You're home. Relax, rest."  
  
Charlie took his time in the shower, more to give Ian and Don a chance to talk than anything else. When he got out, Don and Ian were laying on the bed, Don with one hand on Ian's waist. He wondered if holding him made Ian feel trapped.  
  
Don lifted his head and gave Charlie a comforting smile. "Looks like it's my turn."  
  
He shifted out of bed, stopping on the way to the bathroom long enough to caress Charlie's jaw. "Be out in a few. Take over for me?"  
  
Smiling softly, Charlie nodded and then crawled in behind Ian. He took up the same position Don had been in, but more tentatively. "Is this okay?" he murmured as he slipped his hand around Ian's waist.  
  
"It's good," Ian said, linking his fingers with Charlie's.  
  
"I'm glad you're back," Charlie said quietly. "And I know this must be really frustrating for you. Hopefully Bradford can help."  
  
"I can't help feeling like that Ian, your Ian, is another person. And I'm envious of his life. I hope he knows how good he has it. Even though intellectually I know we're the same guy," he said.  
  
Charlie swallowed hard and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of Ian's neck. "You do know. And you show us in little ways all the time. We love you so much. And I think you have changed, a little. But so have we. Do you think we couldn't love you because of what you do for a living?"  
  
Ian squeezed Charlie's hand. "I think what I do for a living is something most people would find horrifying. But it was what I was meant to do, that I know. I'm glad he--I--have you. I don't know for sure, but I think you've been good for me."  
  
"You've been good for me, too, Ian. Me and Don. We compliment each other in interesting and unexpected ways. And what Don said before is true for me, too. I'm confident you'll regain your memory, but if for some reason you can't," his throat was tight so he paused and tried to clear his throat, "if for some reason you can't, we'll build something new. We're not going to abandon you, Ian, no matter what. And neither will your friends. You're friends with Don's entire team, you know. Good friends."  
  
Ian rolled onto his other side so he could face Charlie. He opened his mouth to say... something, but then closed it again. What could he say to this man, this man who loved him and had just pledged not to leave him when he couldn't even remember why? He ran his fingers into Charlie's curls.  
  
"Thank you, Charlie," he said quietly. "Wait. I'm sure I don't call you Charlie all the time. Do I have a nickname for you?"  
  
Charlie swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. "Baby. You call me baby."  
  
Leaning in slowly, Ian made his intention clear and wasn't surprised when he saw Charlie hesitate. He relaxed a little when Charlie tipped his head up and accepted his lips, giving him a soft, tender kiss. "Thank you, baby."  
  
"Any time, Tiger," Charlie said, voice rough with emotion.  
  
Don returned from the bathroom, surprised to see Charlie's head tucked against Ian's shoulder and Ian gently stroking his arm. It was so normal and familiar that it made his heart stutter with a faint hope that maybe Ian had remembered suddenly. But Charlie lifted his head and he could see the pain and anguish still around his eyes.   
  
Sliding back, Charlie made room for Don in the middle, wrapping instantly around his back once he was in place.  
  
Don put one hand on Charlie's leg and kept the other on Ian. "Just relax," he said softly. "Sleep."  
  
Ian tried to relax as much as possible. He felt like he should be more freaked out than he was that he was essentially sharing a bed with two strangers. But even though he couldn't remember specifically, something about the way they treated him, the things they said to him, rang true without specific memory. He fervently hoped that this wasn't some sort of elaborate device to get information from him or a fevered half-conscious dream. He wanted this to be his real life.   
  
The softness of the mattress combined with the shared warmth of Don and Charlie's bodies was enough to finally pull him into sleep, exhaustion sending him down hard.  
  
Charlie was the next to fall asleep. Don could hear when his breathing evened out. He tried to remain awake in case Ian woke up but it was difficult to remain alert when he was between Ian and Charlie. All three of them found it easier to sleep when they were together. It was home, and home wasn't dangerous. Eventually sleep claimed him, too.  
  
Ian slept fitfully, and each time he started awake, Don automatically soothed him. The first couple of times, it took Ian a long time to settle down again, but eventually his body was just too exhausted to continue keeping him awake any longer. It was the early hours of the morning when Ian finally settled down for good.  
  
As dawn broke, Don woke slowly, checking that both of his lovers were still sleeping soundly. Shifting a little, he sat up to watch Ian sleep, Charlie's head pillowed on his hip.  
  
Ian woke almost instantly, no doubt sensing he was being watched. He automatically reached for the gun Don had removed from its customary place the night before.   
  
"Ian, easy, it's me, it's Don," he said softly.  
  
Ian sagged, all the tension bleeding out of him. He rubbed his hand across his face. "I feel like shit."  
  
Half-chuckling, Don pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You look like shit, too, but that's to be expected."  
  
"Thanks," Ian said dryly. "What time is it?"  
  
"Early. Sometimes you and I get up and do an early morning run."  
  
"Not Charlie?"  
  
Don laughed. "You know Charlie. He'd sleep through a hurricane if it happened before noon. Sometimes we make him go anyway, though. But mostly we do our run, have a shower together if there's time, wake up Charlie with sex or breakfast..."  
  
Ian tried not to wince at Don's choice of words. He _would_ know Charlie if he hadn't lost his memories of his precious, awesome life. "That sounds... wonderful. Sounds like we spoil Charlie."  
  
"We do. And he's worth all of it." Don stroked his hand through Charlie's curls; Charlie barely stirred. "You feel like a run? The exertion might help."  
  
"Yeah, I'd like that. We have a usual route?"  
  
"A few of them, yeah. We should wake up sleeping beauty so he doesn't worry if he wakes up without us."  
  
Ian looked over at Charlie sleeping contentedly. "Maybe you should do it. I'm not sure how he likes it to be done."  
  
Don impulsively kissed Ian full on the mouth, drawing him forward and exploring his mouth fully when he felt him try to pull away. "He loves you. We love you," he murmured against his lips. "There's no wrong way."  
  
Ian smiled. "Thank you," he whispered.   
  
He reached out and stroked Charlie's hair. "Charlie? Hey, baby, wake up. Charlie."  
  
Charlie groaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Ian?"  
  
"Don and I are going to go for a run, okay?"  
  
"m'kay," Charlie mumbled. "Bring coffee."  
  
Ian looked a little flabbergasted as Charlie just rolled over and went back to sleep. "Is that normal?"  
  
"Actually... yeah. Come on. He'll wake up once we caffeinate him. You keep your running clothes in the bottom drawer," Don said, following Ian out of bed. It was almost amazing how much he knew about Ian, the details of his life. It was getting to be disturbingly second-hand to fill them in for him as they went along.  
  
They changed and headed out, Don picking the route that would give them a solid 5-mile run. Don set a challenging pace and Ian relaxed into the run. His body seemed to remember the route, even if he didn't.  
  
It felt good to stretch his legs like this, the blood pumping through his veins because of exertion instead of adrenaline and fear. And Don running next to him definitely added to the scenery. Some of the area looked familiar, but he couldn't tell if that was his memory improving, or if it was familiar just because of the times he'd come to LA to work. Sooner than he thought, they were coming toward the end of the run.   
  
Don pulled him into a coffee shop where the baristas greeted both of them by name. Ian had no idea who the women were, but he figured he could get away with half a smile and a wave, accepting his coffee from Don. He took a sip, finding made exactly the way he liked it. "Thanks for the coffee, Don." He paused. "Um... I don't call you baby, too, do I?"  
  
"Most definitely not. Partner is what we use for each other."  
  
"Partner," he said, trying it out. "I like that. I like that a lot. So how does Charlie take his coffee?"  
  
"Tasting more like sugar than coffee," Don said, grinning.   
  
"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."  
  
They walked back to the apartment, slowly sipping at their coffee, both of them saving it for the most part until they could share it with Charlie. "Tell me something about Charlie. Anything," he said as they walked.  
  
"He graduated high school when he was 13, the same day as me. He is a _terrible_ speller. When you and I play him together we stand a chance with chess but on our own he'll kick our ass, but just mention Scrabble and you'll send him into a panic."  
  
Ian laughed. "Hmm... I wonder if I've forgotten how to play chess, too."  
  
"Selective memory loss, remember? You're clearly still excellent at strategy. You snuck up on Charlie and me without a sound."  
  
"I suppose so," Ian said. Don's apartment building was approaching in the distance. He knew they needed to get cleaned up and over to the FBI building to debrief today, but Ian really just wanted this warm, cared for feeling to last a little longer. "Now tell me something about you."  
  
"I kick ass at basketball. Actually, I played single A baseball for a while, but when I realized I wasn't going to get any better than that I signed up for the FBI."  
  
Ian nodded. What Don had chosen to tell him said a lot, more than maybe he realized. Don and Charlie were both driven men, accomplished. It fit that these were the types of men he would fall in love with. Putting a hand on Don's arm, Ian stalled them on their walk back to his apartment. "Listen, I don't know if I'll ever get my memories back. I hope I do. It sounds like the three of us have had some good times together. Probably some scary times, too. But even if I don't, I want you to know... I don't think I'd have any problem falling in love with you two all over again."  
  
Don smiled. "That's always good to hear. And I won't have a problem falling in love with you, either. I can't speak for Charlie, but I'm sure he feels the same way. You've been really good for him."  
  
"Tell me about the first time we met, the case that I worked with you on," Ian said as they continued walking.  
  
Don told Ian the story about the sniper epidemic and Charlie, the hurt look on Charlie's face when he'd brought Ian in. He told him about the three of them working together and that heart-stopping, terrifying moment when he realized the sniper had just taken a shot at his brother. "I think by the end, you and Charlie had developed a healthy personal respect for each other."  
  
They had arrived at his apartment, and Ian followed Don up in silence, thinking it over. Parts of the story had sounded almost familiar, but like it was a story he'd already heard.   
  
Charlie wandered out into the living room as soon as the door opened, looking sleep-warm and rumpled. "Coffee. Thank god."  
  
"Surprised you're up this early, Chuck," Don said, ruffling his hair.  
  
"I wanted to see Ian before he had to go in for his debriefing. I don't suppose you...?"  
  
"No, sorry," Ian said.  
  
Charlie nodded, disappointed but not surprised.  
  
Walking over to him, Ian put an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. "Can you come with me today? To the debriefing? Or at least to the appointment with the shrink? Maybe once I get it all out and see you two are safe this... block or whatever will break."  
  
"Of course. I'll come as far as they let me. Bradford will probably want to talk to you alone for a while, but we'll be there as much as we can."  
  
"Thanks. This is all pretty confusing. I can use all the backup I can get," Ian said, kissing his temple again. "I'm going to get a shower, get Bureau presentable. I'll be back."  
  
"We're due in at 10," Don said as a reminder. When Ian was gone, he tugged Charlie over to the couch and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "How are you feeling this morning?"  
  
"Just as bad as last night. I wonder if there's something I can do. Some math I can try. If only I were farther along on my cognitive emergence research..."  
  
"This isn't your fault. Or Ian's. I think Bradford is probably the most qualified to help him right now. And if he can help me, he can help Ian, right?"  
  
Charlie chuckled softly. "Yeah, you're right. I know. I do. I just..." He shrugged.  
  
"Yeah, I know, buddy. I want him back to his old self, too," Don said, kissing him softly.


	2. Chapter 2

The debriefing lasted several hours, during which Don paced and Charlie watched him pace outside the closed conference room. When Ian finally emerged, he wanted to wrap him protectively in his arms and take him home to bed. He looked tired, like he'd been raked over the coals. Thankfully, Charlie stepped in and wrapped his arm around Ian's waist since Don couldn't.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"They grilled me pretty closely, had to make sure I hadn't conveniently forgotten letting the bad guy go or forgotten going to the other side. And they very helpfully reminded me that these guys hadn't only threatened to kill the families of FBI agents, they actually succeeded. So." Ian scrubbed a hand over his face.  
  
"So maybe Don's theory is right," Charlie said. "Maybe you were trying to protect us, in case they found out who you were. Did they ever come close to finding you?"  
  
"There were a couple close calls," Ian said wearily. "When's the appointment with Bradford? Because if there's any chance he can get me to stop feeling like this, I really want to get him to do it."  
  
"In about half an hour. Do you want to go up to his office to wait? Sometimes he's done with a client early," Don said, squeezing Ian's shoulder in sympathy.  
  
"Yeah, that sounds good."  
  
....  
  
Charlie and Ian took a spot on Bradford's couch in the waiting room while Don sat in the chair trying to look like he wasn't fidgeting or nervous. About 15 minutes before their appointment, Bradford walked another agent out and saw them sitting there. "So, this is the famous Ian Edgerton," Bradford said, extending his hand.  
  
"That's what they tell me," Ian said, shaking Bradford's hand.   
  
"And I see you brought friends."  
  
"They've been very helpful in trying to guide me through this. I thought Charlie should be here at least, seeing as he's supposed to know me best," Ian said.  
  
"And I'm just here for moral support," Don said.   
  
Bradford nodded. The rumors about Charlie and Ian had managed to reach even him. "I'd like to talk with Ian alone first, but if we need you, I'll bring you in," Bradford said. He stood aside and motioned Ian into his office.  
  
Ian looked around the office curiously. This was the man who had apparently done wonders for Don. He tried to let that reassure him. He was going to have to walk a careful line between being honest and keeping his relationship with Don a secret.  
  
"I understand you're coming back from an extended and stressful assignment."  
  
"Yes. And now I don't remember Don or Charlie or anything connected with them. Don seems to think it may have been a kind of protective mechanism."  
  
"Give a guy a little therapy and suddenly he thinks he's a psychiatrist," Bradford joked, trying to put Ian at ease. "So what does Doctor Don Eppes hypothesize is the reason for the protective mechanism?"  
  
"The survivalists I was hunting had a penchant for killing the families of FBI agents that went after them. If I had been captured and they found out about Charlie, he might have been hurt or killed. Since Don is Charlie's family and Don's team is like his family, it's possible I convinced myself they didn't exist so I could keep them safe. But now that they're safe, I can't seem to be able to _un_ convince myself. And I want to. I really do."  
  
"Tell me what Don and Charlie have told you about your life with Charlie," Bradford said.  
  
Ian shifted in his seat. He told Bradford what Don had told him about saving Charlie's life. He told him about the apartment and how Charlie sometimes worked there when he was away. He told him about Charlie being in love with him and promising to stay with him even if he didn't get his memories back. He very much wanted to tell Bradford about Don knowing the way he took his coffee and where he kept his gym clothes and how loved it had made him feel, but he didn't. He kept the focus on Charlie as much as he could. "And it all sounds great, doc. It's a life I didn't know I wanted until they told me about it--a life I never thought I'd get to have."  
  
"That might be worth talking about, too, after we get your memories back. Do you think Don's theory is right? That you forgot Charlie and the people he's connected to in order to keep him safe?"  
  
"I think it's the only thing that makes sense right now. There's been no trauma or injury that anyone can find. Maybe it's something I've always done anyway, turned on the sniper when I've needed it and turned everything else off. But this time it went deeper than that, and now I can't turn Charlie's Ian back on."  
  
Bradford frowned. "How is 'Charlie's Ian' different from who you are now?"  
  
"Charlie's Ian is... warm. He sounds like he's kind and attentive and loving. Don even said he can be saccharine." Ian chuckled at the thought. "I'm not that way. I can't be, not when I'm hunting. Otherwise, I don't think I could ever make a kill when I needed to. And intellectually, I know we're the same guy, that _I_ am the one who's that way with Charlie. But I don't remember it. I know I'm capable of it. Just having Charlie stay with me last night proved it."  
  
"This may sound intrusive, and it is, but I need to get a full understanding of what's going on. Were you physically intimate with Charlie last night? I don't need the details," Bradford assured him.  
  
"We slept in the same bed, but that was all." He hesitated, then in the interest of being honest, he continued. "I wanted to. When I first saw him after he and Don found me in the woods. He had to tell me who he was, who they were. What they were to me. Even then I didn't get it, at first. I thought the whole thing was just physical. Charlie's a good looking guy."  
  
Bradford made a few notes. "Who decided you shouldn't have sex last night, you or Charlie?"  
  
"I did. Charlie reacted negatively when I--propositioned him. I don't blame him. I must seem like a stranger. That's when I understood that my relationship with Charlie is different."  
  
"Do you have any trouble remembering relationships you've had in the past, before Charlie?"  
  
Ian shook his head. "No. I can remember all the lovers I've had, not that there were many. But I never had what I have with Charlie with any of them."  
  
"Because you hadn't found anyone you were interested in or because you were trying to protect others?"  
  
Ian shrugged. "A little of both. Also it was not finding anyone who was willing to sign up for a life with a man who often has to kill people for a living, even if I am doing it on the side of the good guys. It doesn't seem to bother Charlie, though."  
  
"Does it bother you?"  
  
"Not at all. I was born to do this," Ian said.  
  
Bradford nodded and made a few more notes. "I think I have an idea of what's going on here. How about we bring Charlie in? I'd like to try something a little different to try to get your memories back."  
  
"Can Don come in, too? They're both a part of this."  
  
"I think we should probably check with Charlie. This is likely to get pretty personal."  
  
Ian nodded and Bradford stepped out.  
  
"How is he Doctor Bradford?" Charlie asked, standing immediately.  
  
"He's okay, but he has repressed anything to do with you and your relationship together. He's created a mental block that allows him to believe your relationship doesn't exist so that if he had been captured he wouldn't put you in danger. I get the sense that this is something that Ian has never had to handle before. He's never let himself get close enough to someone to potentially put him or her in harm's way. Now, he can't get past that block." Bradford rubbed his lips. "I'd like to try hypnotizing him, seeing if we can get his brain to let him go back to the time when he was with you without worrying that it'll put you in danger."  
  
"And if it can't?" Charlie asked quietly.  
  
"Then we'll try something else. Ian's asked that you be there for the session. Don, too. I told him I thought you should have a say, Charlie. There might be things that come up that you don't want your brother to hear."  
  
"No, it's okay. I want him there, too," Charlie said, before Don could worry about being left out. And if something did come out that wasn't supposed to, well, better Don was there and knew about it as it happened.  
  
"Okay... let's go then," Bradford said, opening the door.   
  
Ian stood when Charlie walked in and they immediately linked hands.   
  
"It's going to be okay," Charlie murmured, squeezing his hand.  
  
Bradford motioned for them all to sit. "Ian, have you ever been hypnotized?"  
  
"No. Why?"  
  
"I'd like to try it to see if we can get you past this block you've created. If our conscious mind is trying to protect us from something, sometimes the only way to get at it is to go to the subconscious directly." He studied Ian's face. "You ready to give it a shot?"  
  
"If you really think it'll help," Ian said. "I've never put much stock in hypnosis."  
  
"I think it might."  
  
"And if it doesn't?" Ian asked.  
  
Bradford smiled. "Then we'll try something else. Now try and relax and focus on my voice."  
  
Charlie held Ian's hand while Bradford slowly took him down into a relaxed state. He had never seen his face so calm and free of care, and it made him want to reach out and stroke his cheek. But he didn't.  
  
"Okay, Ian," Bradford said in the same calm voice he had used. "I want you to think back to before you were in the woods. Tell me where you are."  
  
"I'm in my truck. I'm driving."  
  
"Where are you going?"   
  
Ian frowned. "I don't know."  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
"Relaxed. Job is done. Don't have another job to go to yet."  
  
Bradford nodded. "So where are you going?"  
  
"Home. Home to Charlie. Charlie and his family. We're going to celebrate. It's been a long time since we've seen each other. Too long. Always too long."  
  
"What happens the first time you see Charlie?"  
  
Ian smiled. "I smile at him. He looks gorgeous. Curls all around his face. Can't wait to kiss him. Feel them under my hands."  
  
"Good," Bradford said. "Where are you?"  
  
"My apartment. He rushes to me. Kisses me. Calls me Tiger."  
  
Charlie squeezed Ian's hand, refusing to blush under Bradford's even gaze.   
  
"Then what?"  
  
"Don comes over. I'm happy to see him. We eat. Charlie cooks. Later, Charlie and I make love."   
  
Don held his breath. It wasn't a lie. Ian and Charlie had in fact made love first while he watched from the hook in the ceiling, but he didn't know if in this state Ian was compelled to be truthful, too.  
  
Bradford glanced at Don but didn't comment. "And then?"  
  
"More sex until we're exhausted. Then sleep. The next morning a run with Don while Charlie sleeps. The longer course, lots of people. Coffee, teasing Don about bacon though I have the turkey stuff, which I make."  
  
"I see. And then what?"  
  
"Hanging out with Charlie and Don. Relaxing. Dinner with Alan. Cozy. Warm." Ian took a deep breath and let it out, a content smile on his face.   
  
"Good." Bradford made sure he was still deep down and then continued. "Now, where were you when you got the call for the job you just finished?"  
  
Ian frowned again. "My car. No. My apartment. With Don and Charlie. Long assignment. They're worried."  
  
"Are you worried?"  
  
"No, not really. I'll miss them, but I don't think anything bad will happen. And Charlie and Don can spend some time alone together, or with their dad. They don't get as much time to hang out together when I'm there. It's not _good_ for me to be gone so long, but it's not bad to be gone for a while, either."  
  
"Okay, so you leave Don and Charlie and go out into the woods. What happens when you get out there?"  
  
Ian shifted uncomfortably and involuntarily squeezed Charlie's hand. "Takes me a couple of days to find the survivalists. But once I do, they're easy to track. No sign of the leader though. Not yet. I overhear them talking."  
  
"What are they talking about?"  
  
"No. I don't... Charlie. I have to keep Charlie safe."  
  
Bradford leaned forward. "Charlie's fine. He's safe. You kept him safe. What are the survivalists talking about?"  
  
"They--they're talking about the way they killed a family. How they tortured them first. Made the mother watch while they killed the children. They're animals. I could kill them right now, but there're others around. I have to keep Charlie safe. I have to keep Don safe. I have to hide them away. I can't let them find out. Not even if they torture me."  
  
"Ian, it's okay. Don and Charlie are safe, you kept them safe. They're right here with you."  
  
"We're here," Charlie confirmed quietly.   
  
"Right here," Don echoed.  
  
"Safe," Ian repeated. He let out a breath and relaxed again. "They're safe."  
  
Bradford touched Ian on the knee. "Ian, do you remember finishing the job?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And what about Don and Charlie?"  
  
"They're safe," Ian said again. "I can go home now."  
  
"Okay, Ian. I want you to listen to me very closely. I am going to tap you on the knee three times. When I get to three, you're going to wake up feeling refreshed and relaxed. You'll be in a room among friends, okay? One... two... three..."  
  
Ian blinked and opened his eyes.   
  
Charlie didn't even have to ask if he remembered who they were, he could see it in Ian's face.  
  
Ian smiled broadly at Charlie before looking down to see their hands linked. "Charlie. God... it is _so_ good to see you," he said, tugging Charlie into a fierce hug. "How did we get here?"  
  
"What do you remember?" Bradford said.  
  
Ian shook his head slowly. "I remember being out in the woods and finishing the job. But I got cut off from my truck and couldn't make it back right away. And now, here I am."  
  
Bradford nodded. "I thought that might happen."  
  
"And... who are you, exactly?"  
  
"I'm William Bradford, one of the FBI's psychiatrists. Don and Charlie brought you in to see me because of some memory loss you were experiencing."  
  
Don stepped forward and put a hand on Ian's shoulder, gratified to get a broad smile of recognition. "When you didn't come home, Charlie and I got worried. We found you out in the woods, but you didn't remember who we were or anything about us. It was like we had never met."  
  
Ian shuddered. If he was that far gone they were all damn lucky he hadn't killed them. They probably knew that, too. "Did I suffer a head injury?"  
  
"No. Your targets had tortured and killed family of FBI agents," Don said, his voice hard. And how the hell had the FBI kept _that_ under wraps? "You were trying to protect us."  
  
"How long have I been not myself?" Ian asked, his arm still tightly around Charlie's shoulder.  
  
"Since we found you, just a day," Don said.  
  
"A very long day," Charlie said. He turned to Bradford. "Can we take him home now? Please?"  
  
Bradford nodded. "Yeah, you can go home. But, Ian, I'd like to see you back here in a couple days to make sure there aren't any other holes in your memory. And I think there are some things you might like to talk about."  
  
Ian's brows knit together and he looked at Bradford skeptically. "I don't need a shrink."  
  
"Maybe, maybe not. But I think everyone can use someone to talk to from time to time. At the very least, I want you back here for a follow-up before I sign off on putting you back on active duty. Now, get out of here."  
  
"You know, Ian, Bradford is Don's shrink," Charlie said pointedly, once they were out of the office.  
  
"I know that. I--oh. Look, I didn't mean--"  
  
"Yes, you did," Don said evenly. "But we'll worry about that later. Let's just enjoy having you back right now."  
  
Ian waited until they were at Don's SUV. He grabbed Don's wrist and squeezed. "I'm sorry."  
  
Don gave him half a smile and pressed a hand to Ian's cheek. "I'm just glad you're home. I have missed you so much."  
  
"I missed you, too. Both of you. I want to kiss you so badly, but if I start I might not stop."  
  
Charlie squeezed Ian's shoulder. "Then let's go home."  
  
"Tell me what happened while I was gone," Ian said.   
  
Charlie and Don filled him in on their lives for the months he was gone. The cases they'd worked, together or separately, Charlie talked about his classes, students and work on Cognitive Emergence.   
  
They were trying to kill time until they got home. Even from the backseat Charlie knew Don was exceeding the speed limit. Not dangerously so, but noticeably.   
  
At last they were parked and inside Ian's apartment. As soon as the door was closed Ian reached for them both, trying to hold and kiss and caress them both all at the same time.   
  
Charlie tugged on Ian's shirt. "This time, the exam will definitely include you being naked."  
  
"What?" Ian asked.   
  
"Explain later," Don growled.  
  
Ian grabbed Don around the waist and propelled him into the bedroom, hauling Charlie along by the wrist. He laid them both out on the mattress and stood back. "God, you two are such a sight for sore eyes. I could just look at you forever."  
  
Don pulled Charlie to him, running his hands into his curls and nibbling on his neck. "I sure as hell hope you plan to do more thank look."  
  
"Oh, I intend to," Ian said.  
  
Charlie gave a soft moan as Don nibbled on a particularly sensitive spot.  
  
"Then get over here so we can get you naked," Charlie gasped, rubbing shamelessly against Don.  
  
Ian growled in the back of his throat and launched at the bed, wrapping himself tightly against Charlie's back. He turned his head to him so he could claim his lips in a long, deep kiss. "Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured as he kissed his way along Charlie's jaw, nibbling and tasting. "Warm and alive. Both of you."  
  
"We're right here, partner," Don said. "We're not going anywhere." He tugged on Ian's shirt, pulling it up his torso until Ian broke off long enough to let him strip it and toss it aside.  
  
"I've _missed_ you," Charlie said. He kissed Ian's neck and chest, then shifted a little so Don could have access to Ian. Charlie busied himself stripping Don and felt hands on the fly of his jeans.  
  
"Missed you, too, baby. God, I missed you both so much," Ian said as he worked on Charlie's jeans, pushing them down his hips as soon as they were open. Turning his head a little he captured Don's mouth in a fierce and frantic kiss.  
  
"Easy, partner, easy," Don soothed. "We don't have to rush."  
  
Ian took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I need you," he said urgently.  
  
"You have us. I promise," Don said.  
  
Together, Don and Charlie finished stripping Ian, making sure their clothes disappeared at the same time. Naked together at last, Ian wrapped a hand around Charlie's cock and stroked as he devoured his lips once more.  
  
Charlie moaned and pushed into Ian's hand. He knew Don was right, knew they didn't have to hurry but he felt Ian's same urgency. Like if they didn't have sex right now it would all fade away and Ian would be gone or not remember them again.  
  
"I need--I want Charlie in the middle," Ian murmured. "Want to feel you both under me. Please?" he said, still stroking Charlie steadily.  
  
"Anything you want," Don said, kissing Ian deeply. He reached over for the lubricant and put it in Ian's easy reach. He kissed Charlie's neck and shoulder, ready to offer himself up to Charlie when he was ready.  
  
Charlie kissed Don hungrily, fingers caressing his chest and sides, then lower down until he reached Don's cock and stroked firmly.  
  
"Charlie," Don moaned.  
  
Ian pressed a kiss to the small of Charlie's back and slicked his fingers.  
  
"Who do you want to prep you, Don? Me or Ian?" Charlie asked, nibbling on his neck.  
  
"Ian," Don said, arching his neck to give Charlie more access. He understood it was hard for Ian to choose, and that there was in fact only one of him. He knew Ian would be with him soon enough. "Want to feel him."  
  
Ian leaned over Charlie and claimed Don's lips hard, a promise for later. "Roll over for me, partner."  
  
Don obliged and Ian slid one finger in followed swiftly by a second.  
  
Charlie alternated between kissing Don, kissing Ian, and just watching.  
  
Don responded to whatever stimulus was presented to him, the feel of Ian's fingers moving in him, the touch of Charlie's lips and hands on his fevered skin. All he could do was make small, inarticulate sounds of pleasure as finally Ian dipped a third finger inside, stroking against his prostate.  
  
"All ready for you, baby," Ian purred, kissing Charlie deeply.  
  
Charlie smiled and turned Don's face up for a long kiss. Then he lined himself up and slowly pushed inside.  
  
"Fuck, Charlie," Don moaned, pushing back eagerly into him. He hadn't quite realized how much he needed this until now, all the last tension of Ian being missing and then not being himself finally fading away. "God, yes."  
  
"Your turn," Ian purred in Charlie's ear, preparing him as swiftly as he had Don and then plunging deep inside him.  
  
Charlie moaned as Ian drove him deeper into Don. "Ian. Yes, just like that."  
  
"Ian... Charlie...," Don moaned, twining his fingers with Charlie's. "God, please."  
  
Ian wrapped his hands around Charlie's hips, forcing him into his rhythm as he worked hard and frantic into them both. "Fuck. You both... god you both feel so good. You're amazing. Missed you so much."  
  
"Ian," Charlie whispered, letting him take control, drive them both. He kissed Don's back, squeezed Don's fingers. Already his pleasure was reaching the apex. It'd been too long.  
  
Ian nibbled the back of Charlie's neck. "Stroke Don for me, baby," he commanded. "Want to feel you two come apart under me."  
  
Don moaned as Charlie wrapped a hand around him, stroking in time with Ian's increasingly frantic thrusts.   
  
"Ian... yes, Ian. Please," Charlie panted. "Please."  
  
"Come for me, baby."  
  
Charlie couldn't have disobeyed Ian's command even if he'd wanted to.  
  
Don moaned as Charlie came, warmth spreading deep inside him. The sensation was the last trigger he needed, coming over Charlie's fingers with a strangled shout.  
  
Ian came last of all, covering Don and Charlie's joined hand with his own.  
  
Don panted at the bottom of the pile as they all started to come down from their orgasms. He closed his eyes, the wall of emotion--fear and gratitude and love and more--hitting him hardest now that all of his defenses were down. Charlie must have felt him take a shaky breath because he was suddenly whispering soothing words in his ear and shifting to the side so Ian could wrap his arms around him and stroke his skin.  
  
"So scared," Don murmured, his face buried in Ian's neck. "When we couldn't find you, I was so scared you were gone. And then when you didn't remember us... it was so much worse. To have your body here and not the rest of you. I... I just..."  
  
"Shh, partner. It's okay. It's okay now," Ian soothed.  
  
"No, it's not," Don said. "How can we be sure it won't happen again?"  
  
"We can't. But you know that. It's part of the job," Ian said. "All we can do is keep each other close and tight and love each other every day." He kissed Don deeply. "I'd never leave you if I could help it."  
  
"I know. But I was talking about the memory loss."  
  
"So was I," Ian said. "You know I'd do whatever I had to do to keep you safe, even if that meant risking not remembering you at all."  
  
"What if the price is too high? What if Bradford can't bring you back next time?"  
  
Ian drew Don tighter to him and reached out for Charlie, knowing Don was saying the things that Charlie was too full of emotion to express. "I don't know, partner. When you first found me without my memories, did I trust you?"  
  
"Yes," Don said. "You did. Much faster than I thought you would. You believed everything we told you."  
  
"Then, even as far as I had repressed my memories, I still knew you on some level. Deep down." He paused. "If Bradford hadn't been able to get my memories back, what would you have done?"  
  
"We'd have found a way to get through it. Together." It probably wouldn't be an issue again. But Don wasn't sure how many times he could go through that.  
  
"I can't promise you this will never happen again," Ian said. "I hope it never does. I always want to be able to come home to you both at the end of a job, hold you and kiss you and make love to you. I want--I want to spend the rest of my life with both of you."  
  
"So do I," Don said quietly. "I know you can't make any guarantees. I can't either."  
  
Ian rolled onto his back, tugging Don on top of him so he straddled his hips. Then he pulled Charlie close to his side. "Don, Charlie... I have every intention of growing old with you. As long as I live, I will always love you. And I never want to let go of you again."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Don leaned down and kissed Ian deeply and passionately, sealing Ian's pledge with a kiss before allowing Charlie to do the same. "I love you."  
  
"I love you," Ian said firmly. "Charlie, you've been quiet."  
  
"It seemed like something you two needed to work out."  
  
"And you? What do you need, baby?" Ian said, stroking Charlie's curls.  
  
"I just need to be with both of you."  
  
"You have us, baby," Ian said.  
  
Don nodded. "Promise."  
  
"So... what did you mean when you said that this time the examination would include me getting naked?" Ian asked, running his hands up and down Don's thighs.  
  
Don ducked his head and smiled, taking the opportunity to run his hands along Ian's chest. "Something you said when you weren't you. We were taking you to the doctor, getting you checked out. And you asked if getting checked out included the two of us getting you naked."  
  
Laughing, Ian threw his head back. "Wow. That sounds like... like the way I used to be. Before I met Charlie."  
  
Charlie rolled his eyes. "Right. Like if you'd been yourself you wouldn't have said exactly the same thing. I probably would have taken you up on it, too."  
  
"I might have," Ian admitted. "Maybe not right after just being found in the woods after being missing for several days. But a naked examination with the two of you sounds just like a little slice of heaven to me."  
  
Don's hands still stroked Ian's chest, pulling a soft moan from him now.   
  
"Don..." Ian murmured.  
  
Charlie laughed. "I think Don's saying he's ready for round two."  
  
Reaching down between them, Don wrapped a hand around Ian's half-hard cock. He stroked languidly a few times, Ian's cock hardening in his grip. "I think Ian just might be ready for the next round as well."  
  
"Three months away... it's a long time to wait for you."  
  
"Damn right," Don said. "They better give you a long time off this time."  
  
"Well, until Dr. Bradford signs off on my eval, I can't do anything anyway. But they're talking about a month off, at least."  
  
"It should be at least a month. And can we make a deal never to mention my therapist in the middle of sex ever again?" Don squeezed Ian's cock pointedly, making Ian groan.  
  
"Technically, this is still foreplay, but you have a deal, partner," Ian said.   
  
"Oh, really? Does this feel like foreplay?" Don asked, sliding down Ian's body and sucking the head of his cock into his mouth.  
  
"Fuck!" Ian groaned and one hand made its way down to cup the back of Don's head, holding him in place and urging him on.  
  
He reached out blindly with the other hand, searching for Charlie's skin and drawing him close when he found his hand.  
  
Charlie claimed Ian's lips in a soft kiss but didn't interfere.  
  
"Okay?" Ian managed, concerned about Charlie's quiet in the last few minutes.  
  
"Relax. I'm just enjoying the show."  
  
"Good... your brother does put on one hell of a show--oh, god," Ian moaned, arching up into Don's mouth as his teeth gently grazed his flesh.  
  
Charlie grinned. "He'll tell you if you can still talk he's doing it wrong."  
  
Ian only panted in reply, squeezing Charlie's hand. His other hand stroked over Don's hair restlessly, the soft strands against his palm just adding to the pleasurable sensations.  
  
"Don--" he panted. "God... want to fuck you. Please."  
  
Don pulled off and shifted to kiss Ian. "Then fuck me," he whispered.  
  
Ian groaned and shifted, rolling Don onto his back so he could hover over him. He dropped his hand between Don's legs, finding him still stretched and mostly slick from his encounter with Charlie. Still, he took his time to stretch him again just because he could, using just a little more lube, before plunging deep inside Don's welcoming body.  
  
Don groaned in pleasure, reaching for Ian's hand and linking it with his.  
  
"Love you," Ian said, two fingers on the side of Don's jaw coaxing his eyes up to his face. "So much."  
  
"Love you, too--oh God... Ian..." Don moaned. He reached out blindly for Charlie, dragging him close and making a frustrated noise when he didn't find his lips on the first try. When he finally did, he kissed him long and deep, transmitting the pleasure he was receiving to Charlie in the best way he could.  
  
Charlie continued to kiss Don, enjoying making out with him and hearing the sounds of pleasure Ian was producing.  
  
Ian steadily upped his pace until he was pushing hard, fast, and frantic into Don, one hand braced against the headboard so he didn't inadvertently slam Don's head against it. He felt his climax building at the base of his spine far sooner than he really wanted it to, but what could he expect after so many months away. Don was making soft whimpering noises below him, hard again and needy for release.   
  
Resolutely, without laying a hand on Don, he let go of his control, coming deep inside him with a cry. Don whimpered in protest as he slipped from his body.  
  
"Ian, please--oh!" Don moaned, breaking off and Ian took his cock deep in his mouth, sucking expertly. Don couldn't last long against that. He came with Ian's name on his lips and Charlie's hot mouth on his chest, sucking a particularly sensitive spot.  
  
"God, you two..." Charlie said, pressing a kiss to Ian's wet mouth and tasting Don. "You two are just so hot together. You drive me absolutely crazy."  
  
"Back at you," Ian said, running his thumb over Charlie's lips.  
  
It was then that Don became aware of the pressure of Charlie's hard cock pressing against his thigh. He had a moment of absurd pleasure, as he always did, to know that he had a part of making that happen.   
  
"Think Charlie needs a hand with something, partner," Don murmured, voice husky.  
  
"A hand, a mouth, anything,' Charlie agreed, voice filled with need.  
  
Ian pushed at Charlie's hip so he rolled onto his back, effortlessly offering himself for whatever Ian wanted to give him. Legs still half-tangled with Don, he kissed his way up Charlie's thigh until he finally pulled his cock between his soft lips.  
  
Shifting so he could watch, Don threaded his hand into Charlie's hair, stroking in the places he knew would send pleasure spiraling through him, and occasionally dropping a soft kiss to a sensitive place on Charlie's skin.  
  
It didn't take long before even Charlie was spent. He had a hand on Don's thigh and one on the back of Ian's neck. "That's it. I'm never moving again."  
  
Ian chuckled, kissing Charlie softly. "I imagine you'll feel different when it comes time for breakfast tomorrow morning."  
  
"No," Charlie protested. "You've killed me. I'm just going to lie here and be dead."  
  
"But that would be sad," Don said. "You wouldn't want us to be sad, would you, Chuck?"  
  
Charlie huffed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fine. Not dead then. But I am so not moving until someone makes me coffee tomorrow. Okay?"  
  
"Deal," Don said, kissing his lips. He stroked his hand down Ian's arm. "I love you so much."  
  
"I love you, too. Both of you. And even when I wasn't myself--some part of me must have known that."  
  
Don stroked his hand down Ian's back. "You did. I know you did."  
  
Charlie nodded, his eyes starting to droop with satiation and exhaustion. "I vote for sleeping now and making up for the rest of Ian's time away in the morning."  
  
"And every day for the next month," Don agreed.  
  
Ian chuckled and kissed Don one more time as he slid to Charlie's other side, holding him firmly in the middle. "You have that kind of time, Don? You're likely to be late for work every day for the next month if you make that promise."  
  
"For you and Charlie, I'll make the time."  
  
"Aw," Charlie said, turning to give Don a kiss. He felt entirely relaxed for the first time in months, ready to sleep between the two men he loved.  
  
Don kissed him back in return, stroking his skin as he closed his eyes and drifted off into easy sleep. He and Ian soon followed suit and the next thing he knew it was morning and the sun was bathing the bedroom in a soft yellow light.  
  
The next morning Ian was as good as his word and Don was 20 minutes late getting into the office. Don did his best to keep the stupid grin off his face.   
  
He called Ian around 10:30, knowing Charlie should be teaching a class by now. "Hey. Why don't you meet me for lunch?"  
  
"Sure. Where do you want to meet? The apartment? Though you might not actually eat if we do that," Ian said, smiling into the phone.  
  
"How about Gonzales?" Don said. "I'll treat you to a burger."  
  
Ian didn't ask about Charlie, figuring if Don wanted him there he'd have said so. As good as it was to have the three of them together, they all understood that spending time one-on-one was important, too. "Okay. Noonish?"   
  
"Noonish is good."  
  
"See you then," Ian said.  
  
The bar had a small lunch crowd when Ian arrived. He saw Don almost immediately, sitting by himself in a corner booth.  
  
"Hey," Ian said, sliding in across from him.   
  
"Hey yourself." Don offered him a smile and a menu, although by now they were both so familiar with the place they didn't need it. They made a little small talk and after the waitress took their order Don leaned forward and Ian braced himself.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you about what Bradford said. And what you said."  
  
"Don, I already said I'm sorry. And I am."  
  
"I know, but that's not what I meant. After the Holye shooting I thought seeing Bradford was a waste of time, too. Instead of just getting through it I went in pissed off and blew him off. I walked out of the session. He made the point that I could have just gotten through it, and he'd been prepared to do a pro forma review. But since I acted the way I had, maybe there were issues that needed to be addressed, and he was right. I do have issues, even entire subscriptions. But I don't think anyone would say it hasn't helped me. And I don't think anyone would say it makes me a liability in the field."  
  
"Don, I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I really don't think I'm going to get anything out of sitting down and talking to Bradford. I don't have a problem with what I do. It's what I was always meant to do."  
  
Don pressed his foot to the inside of Ian's under the table, the best he could do in lieu of holding his hand. "Are you sure? When you didn't have your memories, Charlie told you he loved you and you seemed... surprised. Like you couldn't quite believe someone like Charlie was capable of loving someone like you."  
  
"I was probably just surprised a civilian didn't run away or seem to worship it." He'd known people like that, too. People who had never killed who wanted to be close to someone who had. They bothered him a lot more than the people who were simply turned off. "And as I recall, Charlie took some convincing."  
  
"Charlie had to get to know you and not your job first, but it wasn't long before he fell for you, that much I know," Don said. "Look, I get it. I know the idea of therapy is not the most appealing. Guys like us, we don't open up easily. All I'm saying is that there might be some things it could be helpful to talk about that you aren't even aware of. Maybe deep down you don't think that you deserve to have this kind of life. I saw the--the longing on your face when you didn't know who we were. You definitely _wanted_ to believe that this was your life, but you couldn't quite do it."  
  
"Don't--" Ian began, but stopped and took a breath. Don wasn't the enemy. Even if he felt like it right now. And maybe that was Don's point.  
  
"Ian... just think about it. Bradford's a good guy. He was on the job. He knows what it's like out there. I trust him." He pressed his foot against Ian's again. "Please just think about it?"  
  
The food arrived and they lapsed into silence for a long moment. "Is there any particular reason you didn't want Charlie here for this?"  
  
Don sifted through various answers to that question before speaking. "I don't really like to talk about my therapy with Charlie."  
  
"Why not?" Ian asked, taking a bite of his burger.  
  
Don squirmed a little. "I'm not ready yet. It's... too personal. Too raw still. I love Charlie, I do. But I'm still pretty screwed up when it comes to him."  
  
"Does Bradford know?"  
  
"About Charlie? God, no."  
  
"I thought it was important to be honest in therapy."  
  
Don shot him a dirty look. "It's more important that everyone keeps their jobs and clearance."  
  
Ian lifted his hands. "Okay, okay. So... you really think it's a good idea I go talk to him?"  
  
"Yeah, I do. At the very least, you've been through something traumatic. It might help to talk about it."  
  
"Okay. I'll do one session and see what happens."  
  
"Good." Don settled in to enjoy his burger.  
  
"Things are okay with you and Charlie, right?"  
  
"Yeah, as they ever are. I just meant--you know, any siblings have issues from growing up together, and when it's somebody like Charlie..."  
  
Ian glanced around and then reached out quickly to squeeze Don's hand. "I get it."  
  
"There's just some things I never dealt with. Now, more than ever, it's important that I do."  
  
"Do you think it would help Charlie? If you've got unresolved issues, I'm sure he does, too."  
  
"Maybe. But I think that's something he has to decide for himself."  
  
"Yeah, you're probably right," Ian said. They quietly changed the topic, moving on to talk about other things until Don's phone rang.  
  
"Eppes. Yeah. Alright, yeah... I'll be there soon. Okay." He hung up the phone and looked at Ian.  
  
"You have to go."  
  
"Yeah. But it doesn't sound too bad. See you tonight?" Don said as he abandoned the last of his lunch and slid out of the booth.   
  
"You know where I'll be," Ian said, giving Don a smile. Don squeezed his shoulder and then hurried out.  
  
Ian waited until he got home, then as promised, he put in a call to William Bradford.  
  
They talked briefly and Ian made an appointment for the next afternoon. As he hung up the phone, he had to admit to a sense of relief. Thinking for a moment, he picked the phone up again and dialed Charlie, knowing he should be having office hours. "Hey, baby," he purred into the phone when Charlie answered.  
  
"Ian, hi! It's good to hear your voice," he said, smiling. "What's up?"  
  
"Was just thinking about you, wondering if you can knock off early. Don's coming over tonight and I wanted to spend some time with you first," Ian said. "I saw him at lunch."  
  
"Sure, it's been pretty slow. Your apartment?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"See you in a few."  
  
Ian hung up the phone and straightened up the apartment, lighting a few candles, even though the sun was still bright in the sky. He hadn't really had a chance to take care of Charlie and he really wanted to. Also, he wanted to tell him that he'd chosen to try therapy, at least once. Charlie's key turned in the lock right on schedule. "Hi baby," he said, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing him.  
  
“Mmm. Hi there. This is certainly a nice way to be welcomed home."  
  
"We didn't really have a chance to connect, just the two of us, with all the craziness. And I thought we should. Plus, I have something I want to tell you," Ian said, pulling Charlie over to the couch.  
  
"Oh? What's that?" Charlie tried to swallow against the ball of nervousness in his throat, certain that Ian was going to tell him that he didn't really remember them, that he'd been faking his recovery.  
  
"Don and I had a talk over lunch. He convinced me... he convinced me that I should try talking to Dr. Bradford, see how therapy goes."  
  
"Oh," he said, relieved. "Okay. That's probably a good idea. Don certainly seems to have benefited from it."  
  
"Yeah, it seems like he has. I promised Don I'd try it out at least once. But I talked to Dr. Bradford earlier and it made me feel--relieved. I think it'll go well." Ian pulled him close and kissed him. "Now, enough about therapy. Let me take care of you."  
  
"Well, if you insist," Charlie said, grinning.  
  
"I do indeed," Ian said. He took Charlie back into the bedroom, laying him out on the mattress. He made love to him slowly, watching him fall apart a bit at a time before allowing himself to fall over the edge. They napped until Don came in and pulled him into bed as well.  
  
"Well," Don panted as they lay on the bed, catching their breath. "That was fun."  
  
"Food?" Ian asked.  
  
Charlie rolled over. "Depends. You gonna cook?"  
  
"Sure. I bet there's something around here I can whip up."  
  
Don grinned. "Deal. I'll help, let Chuck sleep." He pushed himself out of bed, feeling Charlie's eyes on his ass. It was perfect. And normal. And everything he wanted. He tossed Charlie a wink over his shoulder. "Be back soon."


End file.
